


Don't Go Out Into The Woods Today, You'll Never Know What You'll Find

by thekawaiichesca



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crowley won't appear for a few more chapters, F/M, Hiatus, Hunting, I MIGHT ONE DAY COME BACK TO THIS, I'm so sorry, Kinda, M/M, Magic, Overprotective Dean, Prince!Gabriel, Quest, Researcher!Bobby, SUCH A LONG HIATUS, Satyr!Crowley, Wolves, WoodChopper!Bobby, building up relationships with dean and sam, grumpy!Bobby, i should stop now and let you read, kawaii dean and sam, lots of action, oh!, other characters will obviously make an appearance, playing in the snow!, prince!castiel, searching for john like season 1, sleeping in front of the fire, spell books, very slow build i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekawaiichesca/pseuds/thekawaiichesca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time in a land far far away, there lived a wood chopper. Who met two bright young intelligent minds, and thus their adventure began to find the father that abandoned their innocent souls, the father who was chasing after the ghostly hand of their mother.<br/>Unforetold problems lay in their wake as they count down the steps that lead them to their father, but who ever said the yellow brick road was the right way? With witches and magic and a lot of sexual tension, will this trio make it out alive? Or will the Wicked Witch enchant them all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 - And So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HomicidalHobbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomicidalHobbit/gifts).



> I've been wanting to write this story for an entire year! My laptop jacked up though last January and I lost all my stuff, so it took me a year to get my crap together and start writing! I really like this story, like seriously it's one of my favourite. I think it's because it was just so easy to write it, the characters flowed my fingers onto the page and I felt overjoyed when I finished the first chapter, not because I'd finished it but because I'd had so much fun writing it. Dedicated to my dear friend Rhi who drew amazing pictures of Satyr!Crowley and I just had to write something. (http://homicidal-hobbit.deviantart.com/art/Satyr-finished-342028141)

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a wood chopper and his name was Robert Singer, Bobby to those who know him. He was a quiet man, he kept to himself and stayed on the borders of his land, only ever venturing into the nearest village for supplies. However he had many friends from far and wide, from beyond the borders of the Woods Hedge, to the great city of Oakapple which lies right in the centre of Thrador. The most magnificent land of them all.  
Bobby wasn't really concerned about outside affairs though, his world revolved around felling the trees that engulfed him, and then chopping them a bit more. His friends who stopped by once in a while would always bring him news from the borders, as he often avoided going out there himself, preferring the warmth of his cosy small cottage to the chill of winters gaze that was forever on the borders.  
His somewhat glum expression was well known to the people of the Ashen Dragons, a place well known for the dark forest that spawned such large trees, children would often run up to his cottage and spy on him through the small gap in the hedge, he merely ignored their ghostly giggles. A thing people might not have known, was that Bobby liked it when the children pestered him, asking for some of his prize winning tomatoes, their older brothers and sisters smiling softly at him in a way that he wished his own children would smile at him. If only he had any. But his wife had been taken to the Great City of Oakapple, and she was never heard from again, he could only assume that she was happy. Yet, that had happened such a long time ago, and so now he merely acted like a sweet, uncle like figure, and so despite his rough exterior it wasn't that hard to reach and touch his inner soul, especially if one was a child asking for a basket of carrots.  
Bobby had figured that the reason his crops grew so well was the fact that he lived so close to the forest, that sometimes late at night, when the moon had reached its highest point in the sky, reached out to him, wanting to drag him in with its swaying branches and whispered secrets. However there was something about Bobby Singer that was not so normal, that wasn't natural, if you were ever to find yourself in his cosy home you would see things that a normal woodsman would not have in his possession, or rather would not even know about.  
Books, Books of Magic. Of Spells and books of ways to ward against dark things. Now, he wasn't a wizard, nor a witch or any other horrid thing you may think, he was just Bobby Singer, the lonely wood chopper and the part time gardener. Except he was also a researcher, that was the reason behind his many friends from foreign lands, and all the exotic things he had laid about the garden.  
This brings us to where this story begins, and how on a cold night, Bobby Singer ended up having two children thrust into his arms, their father leaving without so much as a goodbye. 

Bobby was spending the cold winter nights like he would any other year, holed up in his house, watching the flames flicker in their own respective light, before he would occasionally glance back at the window out into the snow and the dark night. He wasn't a big fan of snow, he never had been, it was cold and wet and he really didn't see the appeal of it, in fact he only liked it when it was gone.  
There was a knock on the door which startled our studious hero from his sleepy mind, Bobby was however immediately suspicious, no one travelled during these harsh winter months, you could freeze to death in the icy grip of the wind. He stood slowly, adjusting himself to look half decent due to his chequered shirt having become scruffy and unkempt in his general weariness of the constant snow, he certainly hadn't expected guests so late in the night. However his general thought seemed to be 'what the heck does it even matter if I look scruffy, no one's goin' to see me...', he hated being wrong.  
He made his way carefully to the front door, making sure he had all his combat weapons on hand just in case it turned out to be a vengeful witch as once had been the case. But when he pulled the locks off their latches and gradually pulled the cold door open, he found himself at a loss.  
“Hello again Bobby.”  
John Winchester stood opposite him, and then from behind Johns imposing figure two small heads poked out, children. What the hell were children doing out on a night like this?  
“You going to stand there all night?” He said in a gruff voice, stepping to one side of the door, allowing the man and the two children entry, whereas John swept past him the children walked past him slowly as if they were sleep walking. Yet the elder of the two had a firm grip on the younger boy, a defiant look in his piercing eyes, the look of a protector, a soldier. Bobby couldn't help but feel for the kid.  
He closed the door swiftly behind them and blocked the cold out, he then took one quick glance at the trio, all looked a little pathetic, even John. “The fire's just through that door there.” Bobby sighed, waving his hand at the door to the sitting room, he decided that they should at least warm themselves up before they talked business. The children both scrambled towards the room, and Bobby watched with a growing fear in his chest, it was a few moments before he turned back to John. The man in question stood leaning against the wall, his gaze heavy and Bobby gathered that something must have happened, something really bad.  
“Are they your boys?” Bobby asked, folding his arms against his chest, his instincts told him to be wary of this man and all the aura that he had dragged into the cottage. John nodded a little, before answering in a low tone, one that the boys wouldn't hear.  
“I need your help Bobby. I need you to...” John paused, wriggling his fingers a little in the black woolly gloves he wore, the actions told Bobby of his uncertainty, but more so it showed the man beneath the dark cloak, the man that trembled.  
“I gathered that lad. What do you need me to do?” Bobby merely sounded weary, it was his analysis of the man that made his eyelids droop a little, his body groaning a little under the strain of sleepiness.  
“Bobby they took her! The Wolf and his servants, they took Mary. I...I didn't know what to do, so I brought them here,” he nodded towards the children in the other room, the smaller child having taken up residence in the elders arms, “it's not safe for them. The Wicked Witch is coming back, she is returning and there's nothing we can do to stop her.” Johns entire face changed into something akin to heartbreak, it seemed to be a good look on him, until he turned a little and pointed his finger at the small child. “They want Sam...they won't stop until they have Sam too.”  
Bobby watched the Winchester for a moment or so, trying to comprehend what John was telling him, the Wicked Witch couldn't come back, she had been destroyed, forever locked away within a mirror, a mirror that should have been smashed and melted. The boy, Sammy looked so innocent as he slept in his brothers arms, snuggling against his chest, one hand clenching the fabric of the elders jacket.  
But then he realised what John was getting to.  
“You're leaving them here aren't you? You're leaving behind your own children to search for your wife? Damn it John! They are children! They need their father!”  
“And they'll have one. You.” Bobby shook his head at John, he was mad, he couldn't leave his children here and chase after the ghost of his wife, for all they knew she was probably already dead, sacrificed to the Wicked Witch, Bobby assumed, either that or...no he wasn't going to think of the alternative reasoning behind them taking Mary.  
“Besides, Dean can take care of Sam.” Bobby could only stare at him, dumbstruck by the utter lack of care this man obviously possessed.  
“They are your children.” He repeated, his own words feeling slightly hollow though as he watched John shuffle a little, as if uncomfortable. Good.  
“I have to go, I have an idea where they took her, so I'm heading there first. I can't thank you enough Bobby really,” he said quietly, walking past Bobby towards the front door again, was the man not even going to stay for a glass of whiskey? “I'll come back as soon as I can.” He paused as he pulled the door open a little, glancing back at Bobby, a stern look on his face once again, “Tell Dean he has to protect Sam.” and then he was gone. Disappeared into the white swirl of the snow, the door shut quietly as if it knew of the children in the next room quietly dreaming of adventures and being happy.  
Those were the last words John said. 

Bobby leant against the hall wall, breathing deeply, a hand pinching the top of his nose, he was too old to deal with this crap. Yet he did anyway, oh what a fabulous citizen.  
A few minutes later and he had gotten two of the warmest blankets he had, and a few pillows, he stopped at the doorway momentarily, watching the two boys sleep, Deans arms were firmly surrounding his brother, and Sam was still clenching the fabric in his tiny fist. It was a sweet sight, Bobby wished he didn't have to tell them that their father had just abandoned them.  
It was when he moved into the sitting room and began to lay the blankets and pillows down for the boys that Dean woke up, startling himself it seemed for falling asleep in the first place. Bobby watched him from the corner of his eye warily, the poor boy looked confused, and Bobby realised that Dean was searching for his pa.  
“Wh-Where's dad?” The question came finally after a few moments of Dean rubbing his eyes to fight the sleepiness from consuming him once again, but it was just so warm in the room.  
“He's gone to look for your mum.” Bobby replied, his voice thankfully not betraying the emotions he was currently feeling, but Deans face said it all. The kids face changed in an instant, and Dean looked utterly distraught, Bobby wasn't sure he liked that look on him, it made the boy look older and far more weary than a kid his age should look. He easily manoeuvred Sam’s small body onto the nest of blankets and pillows Bobby had just created, shaking his head a little, the boy looked like he was about to start crying.  
“Dad said he would take me and Sammy along though! He told me that this time he wouldn't leave us behind!” His voice cried defiance and denial, but Bobby was more than pissed at the mention of 'this time', just how many times had that blasted Winchester left these two boys to fend for themselves? Bobby said nothing though, merely pulled the blankets up to cover Sam, who snuggled a little but did nothing more then lay there, dreaming of innocent and naïve things Bobby was sure, he didn't want the kid growing up in a world that felt at war. The good versus the evil.  
What a silly notion.  
“We'll talk about it in the morning.” He spoke softly to the boy despite the natural gruffness of his voice, and Dean seemed to calm a little, crawling up to lay besides Sam, Bobby watched the young boys fingers tremble as they clenched the pillow. Yet he said nothing, and rose up from the floor in a somewhat less than graceful manner, he was moving out of the room though when he heard a small voice, different to Deans.  
“I'm Sam...” It was such a small childlike voice that it made Bobby's heart sting a little, and he listened to an intake of air before the voice said “goodnight Mr Singer...”.  
Bobby turned around then, to look at the nest of blankets and the two children curled up in the middle, “Call me Bobby.”, and then he left the room, searching for his own innocent and naïve dreams that he once again longed to have.


	2. Chapter 2 – Building Blocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cute stuff in this chapter, one of the more innocent of chapters...(just Bobby, Sam and Dean here)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I haven't uploaded anything as of late, I've had a busy few weeks preparing myself for the week that just passed because I had my January A-Level exams and I just couldn't finish the chapter, so I cried a lot and it has been extremely stressful so sorry about that.   
> I'd really appreciate comments, and I'd love for you to tell me how you feel about this story ;u; thanks for the kudos too!

Bobby woke early that morning, lying still in his bed for a moment or so, wondering if last night had truly happened, wondering if those two poor boys were still sleeping next to the embers in the grate. He pinched his nose and shook his head, pulling himself up and tossing the covers aside, grabbing a shirt and the trousers he favoured because of their comfy lining. His room was plain and simple, the walls white and empty of pictures, in fact all his room had was a bed, a chest of drawers and a bedside table, he had no need for anything else. His eyes would always avoid the last letter his wife wrote him, it had been framed and placed awkwardly on top of the chest of drawers, he'd read it countless times, he had always loved her writing.  
He wondered if she'd be proud to see him now. The thought made him tremble a little, but he closed his eyes and turned his head up, before whispering to her wherever she may be, “We've got kids, better late than never, my love. I still remember how much you loved children, and if you're...” his voice wobbled a little and he pinched his nose again, “...if you're looking down at us, please help me. Send me help, I'm not sure I'll be any good...at being a father, not without you here...”  
“Mr Bobby?” A small voice called from the doorway, causing Bobby to jump, jerked away from his quiet praying, he turned to face the small child, Sam stared back at him, his eyes wide and shining.  
“What is it boy?” He spoke more gruffly than intended, more annoyed at himself than at the small fellow, at least he was dressed, that was one thing to be grateful for.  
“Well...erm...I...Dean...do you happen to have any food?” And as if on cue Sam's stomach growled in a 'pay attention to me' kind of way, loud and obnoxious, but Sam's slightly hollowed cheeks and general skinniness silenced any humour in the situation. 

John had been starving them.  
John had been starving his own children. 

The very idea made Bobby feel sick, had he truly been so hell-bent on finding his wife that he had forgotten how to care for his children? Perhaps it was for the best that he had left them both here, abandoned them, at least they would get food and drink, with added doses of love and affection (although of course Bobby Singer would never admit to giving such a thing out, he was far too gruff to be thought of as a 'care bear').  
He jumped into action almost immediately, smiling at Sam as if to reassure them both, of what neither were sure. He walked towards the door, taking Sam's small hand in his own large, calloused one, leading him down to the kitchen, happy to hear Sam's loud exclamations of awe when he saw the food cupboard.  
“What would you like to eat Sam?” He inquired quietly, crouching to be on level with the small wide eyed boy, “You can have just about anything to fill that pesky stomach of yours.” He prodded Sam's stomach gently, apparently that was a tickle spot for the child who giggled manically, before pouting and covering his stomach. “Bad Mr Bobby.” He smiled, showing a full set of white baby teeth, “Do you have any maple oatmeal? I really like it, but Dean always bullies me about it, but he's asleep now...” his stomach rumbled again and he looked at Bobby sheepishly. But Bobby merely smiled at him, nodding to himself, sifting through the food he had stored up for the cold winter.  
“Let's see what we have shall we?” He looked over his shoulder to see Sam clambering onto one of the wooden chairs at the small rectangular oak table, he smiled when he saw Sam's glee at being able to sit at the head of the table, it was an odd, satisfyingly sweet moment for Bobby. He finally found a box of oatmeal and a few shelves beneath sat a jar of maple syrup, and thus a few moments later he set about making the lad some porridge.  
When the bowl was placed in front of the boy, steaming and smelling deliciously sweet, the waiting for it appeared to be worth it; Bobby had never seen a child so happy, so utterly pleased with food before. He began tucking in immediately, although there was still the sense of caution around him, like some inner battle was going on, but despite this mental wrestling that was so evident on his face, he tucked in whole heartedly. He seemed surprised when he came to the bottom of the bowl, and yet he appeared content as he leant back against the chair, yawning loudly. “Thank you.” He said quietly, smiling and looking over at Bobby, who had taken up residence leaning against the counter. Bobby nodded at him, before looking at the open door to the room where Dean was still sleeping, “Why don't you go get your brother up, I'll put some food on for him.”  
Sam nodded, grinning like a he'd been offered a house of sweets all to himself, Bobby figured that Sam was happy because he'd woken up before Dean had, and as Bobby watched the young boy running into the living room, squealing a little bit as he jumped onto the sleeping form of his older brother. Bobby sighed as he turned away from the scene, smiling a little at the grumbling noises that left Dean's mouth, obviously someone wanted to go back to sleep. However he remained in the small kitchen, and decided to cook some porridge, for both himself and the grumbling young boy.  
“C'mon Dean! Mr Bobby is making you breakfast, see he made me some maple oatmeal and it was del-delici-yummy!” The excitement was evident in Sam's voice as he tugged and pulled at his brother, now some people may have found him odd for getting so excited over something like breakfast, but you must remember that these boys had been practically starved by their father, not intentionally of course, but they hadn't had much to be excited about, let alone food.  
And so, ten minutes later a very tired Dean and a happy Sam were both sitting at the table, now that Dean had woken up a bit more Bobby could clearly see the sadness resting in the depths of child's eyes, and as he ate he seemed to carelessly glance around the room. Bobby had no doubt in his mind that the boy was searching for the imposing figure of his father and he had no doubt that they would never be seeing that useless man again.  
After clearing up their bowls and helping Bobby to wash and dry them, the trio came to a standstill, unsure of what to do and where to go, in fact it was the youngest of the threesome that knew exactly what he wanted to do, of course, young ones always did, and Bobby was just going to have to like or lump it.  
“Can we play in the snow?!” Bobby's shoulders dropped and he glanced back at the small child from where he was stoking the fire up again, the snow outside was cold and wet and just everything that Bobby did not like, but he wanted to please this child and he was still unsure why.  
“I suppose we can.” He replied in his usual gruff tone, poking the fire once more before pulling himself up off his knees, dusting off the ash that clung to the old trousers. He didn't need to even look at Sam to see how excited he was, the lad was jumping around the room like a lunatic, perhaps he was going a little stir crazy. It certainly appeared that way to any sane being, even when Bobby heard Sam telling Dean that yes they could go outside and “Where are my boots, I thought we put them here?”  
Bobby followed the children down the hall to where he had placed all the shoes and boots and coats, it had been a long time since his house had been so bustling with joy, and he smiled faintly at the sight of Dean and Sam jumping with excitement, although the excitement was far more evident on Sam's face, Dean looked pleased with the situation as if his brothers happiness was the sum to his own. The thought was enough to make Bobby frown as he pulled on his large warm lumber jacket, the boys were outside before he could even tell them to be careful, and as he pulled on his warm thick boots he could hear the giggles and yells being carried into the homely cottage by the wind.  
When Bobby finally came out of the house and into the garden, he was hit. Right in the face with a snowball, the sound of more giggling from behind the bushes caught his attention and he stomped over there, but not before picking up some ammo of his own. Sam obviously hadn't seen him coming up towards him, and even as he looked over the tall bushes he could tell that Sam was preoccupied with building a small mountains worth of snowballs which Bobby figured where either for him or Dean. He was very meticulous though when he lifted his arm with the snowball in hand and hovered it deftly over Sam's head, before dropping it with a loud gushing noise onto the child's wooly hat. Payback was a bitch, which was just something these boys would have to learn.  
Sam took the snowball to the head rather well in fact, and they ended up chasing each other around the garden for a good hour and a quarter before finding Dean leaning on the fence that looked out towards The Forest, his expression dark and glum.  
“Dean? You alright?” Bobby asked him, there was a string of tension in his voice, this side of his house always did make him squirm, the forest had eyes and it was watching, Bobby needed no book to tell him that much.  
“I heard growling...and I came to see what it was...” Dean sounded different, like his head was miles away from his voice, which only made Bobby more concerned. The Forest was enchanting him, calling to the young teenager and beckoning him forwards, but Bobby felt like he'd under-estimated the boy because he hadn't gone out into the forest, he'd stayed behind the safety of the fence and one could only wonder if the only reason he had stayed was because of the young child holding his hand. The idea was entirely plausible, but the kid was setting himself up for a lifetime of worrying for his brother and searching for his missing father.  
It was time to call it a day, the wood chopper decided, worried more than ever about the vacant look in Dean's eyes, he'd seen that look before, and he never wanted to see it again.  
“C'mon, let's leave the woods to the snow and wind, how about a nice hot chocolate and a good book?”  
He'd take care of these children, and he would save them from themselves if he must, the skies grew darker with his thoughts and he turned his cheek up to gaze upon the snow clouds, he wouldn't let anything bad happen to them, not while he lived. But he could feel the storm coming, the future looming over their heads, the reason that the Wicked Witch wanted Sam would soon be revealed, Bobby could feel it in his bones.  
This time though, he was prepared.


End file.
